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he fails, all will be lost. And no tribe presents a greater challenge than the

Wraiths, the spectral beings who are feared and despised for

their lethal deathtouch.

Kamen makes first contact with a stunning, ghostly pale

beauty named Geneviève.

Part Wraith and part human, scorned as a half-breed, Viève

shares the hunger
for redemption—and for connection. Her scintillating touch

holds the kiss of

death, and yet it makes Kamen feel more alive than ever.

Soon his lips are
pressed

against hers, sending Viève into fits of desire and forging a bond that

breaches the divide between them. Now they must unite all

the Nightwalkers,

from Vampire and Shadowdweller to Djynns, and fast—for

Apep is ready for war.

Kamenwati
awoke with a sharp intake of breath. He exhaled when he realized that the dream
was just that . . . a dream. He sat up in his bed and turned on the light on
the nightstand beside him. The room still felt alien to him. Probably because it was not really hisroom and it
was not meant to be comfortable. It was meant to be something just shy of a
prison cell.

So
be it. Considering the unforgivable nature of his crimes against his hosts and
against humanity in general, he should have gotten much worse than this
comfortable bed, a room of his own, and three exquisite meals a day. In truth,
very little had changed about his daily life since coming to this place. He
spent his days studying ancient texts, scrolls, and papyrus that were brittle
to the touch and on the verge of crumbling to dust. He studied new spells and
magic, studied histories and old languages. Just as he had done before.

But
while these were things that had once given him great pleasure and devoured
much of his time, his pleasure had since crumbled to dust, just like an old
parchment. And rightfully so. For it was in one of these scrolls that he’d uncovered the spell that allowed him to inadvertently unleash the deadly and
dangerous imp god, Apep.

Intentionally
or not, he had done it. He was responsible. And therefore it was he who must
find the means to destroy the god he had brought forth. He had walked into the
“enemy” camp, the Bodywalker Politic, and thrown himself on their mercy. Then
he had thrown himself into studying every piece of ancient text he could find
to discover the way to destroy the god. There had to be a way. It was simply a
matter of whether they could find the solution.

Kamen
turned and threw his legs over the bed. He let the sheets pull away, leaving
his bare legs exposed to the chill air. The inside of the New Mexico stronghold
was climate controlled for the most part, but he always found it to be a little
too cold for his liking. But since he was more a prisoner than a guest, it
wasn’t as though he could complain. He stood up, feeling the need to move. He
had grown very restless of late, which thankfully coincided with his jailors allowing him more freedom to move about. He was no longer confined to his
quarters—although that had been a rather loosely adhered to policy from the
beginning. In truth, these people were really lucky he was honestly trying to
reform himself. He could have caused a great deal of damage to them had he been
of a mind to. He knew more than enough spells to wreak havoc if he wished to.

For
centuries, he had been gathering spells like a child gathers wildflowers from a
field. Each time he was reborn into a new host body, he would learn more, and
that knowledge stayed with him throughout his many lives, even in the Ether,
that bodiless state of being where a Bodywalker spirit resides for the one
hundred years in between lives.

For
he was indeed a Bodywalker: a soul that had originated during the long lost
dynasties of ancient Egypt. He had been born, he had lived a life, and he had
died. And like many

noble Egyptians, he had been mummified and buried with all of his wealth, intending to take it with him into the afterlife. But
apparently, the hubris of such an act, of trying to force the hand of the
powers of life and death, had instead given the Egyptians’ souls life
everlasting . . . in the Ether. Knowing no eternal rest, no heaven or hell, no
life other than to exist and watch the years unfold on the earthly plane.

Until
one day one soul thought to ask a living soul on earth who was on the cusp of
death if he wished to share his body in exchange for being returned to full
health, as well as having the powers of immortality and extraordinary self-healing. The living man had agreed and both souls returned to the living
man’s body. The souls eventually Blended and become as one, harmonious inside the
human host. And once one soul was able to do so, all the other souls followed
suit and began to share the bodies of human mortals who would have died
otherwise.

Only,
some Bodywalkers wanted full control without having to answer to the original
soul, so they did as little Blending as possible, suppressing the human soul
until its voice became

nearly nonexistent. These were the Templars. The Politic Bodywalkers were of an opposing mentality. They respected the original soul by
sharing its body on equal footing and honoring the agreement they had made.

Kamen
had been the second most powerful Templar there was, the favorite of their
leader, the most powerful Templar, Odjit. And in turn, Kamen had loved Odjit.
Not as a man loves a woman, but as a devoted follower loves his master. He
thought it was Odjit’s plan to do away with the animosity between the two sides
of the Bodywalker race so they could all live in harmony one day. He had
believed in her cause—in their cause.

Jacquelyn Frank is the New York Times
bestselling author of the Immortal Brothers series (Cursed by Fire, Cursed by
Ice, Bound by Sin, and Bound in Darkness), the World of Nightwalkers series
(Forbidden, Forever, Forsaken, Forged, and Nightwalker), the Three Worlds
series (Seduce Me in Dreams and Seduce Me in Flames), the Nightwalkers series
(Adam, Jacob, Gideon, Elijah, Damien, and Noah), the Shadowdwellers novels
(Ecstasy, Rapture, and Pleasure), and the Gatherers novels (Hunting Julian and
Stealing Katherine). She lives in North Carolina and has been writing romantic
fiction ever since she picked up her first teen romance at age thirteen.